


And They Met Again

by artsypolarbear



Series: Clexa Oneshots [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Heartbreaking, One Shot, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 02:11:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6066741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsypolarbear/pseuds/artsypolarbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa has flashbacks of her life detailing her relationship with Clarke and the happiest years of her life.<br/>or<br/>the worst pain you will feel, but it is absolutely beautiful 10/10 would recommend</p>
            </blockquote>





	And They Met Again

**Author's Note:**

> this is really really sad  
> but it is also so beautiful  
> you have to read it

The room was white. Too white, Lexa had decided, it felt like she was inside a white box with no windows and a persistent odour of cleaning products and bleach hanging in the air. It gave her a headache. Or it should have, at the least.

The door was in the far left corner, which to her seemed like a mile away; there had once been a time when she would have easily skipped over with perhaps two steps, but that time had long passed her.

She stared upwards at the ceiling tiles and counted, despite the fact that she knew there were 79 of them. She counted them anyway. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do.

* * *

 

_It was a warm spring day. The birds were singing, the wind was just gently blowing along the streets of New York, and the sun was shining brightly. It’s golden rays beheld within them the promise of summer, and Lexa couldn’t help but smile. She had left her apartment with no clear destination in mind, but soon found herself amidst trees instead of concrete blocks; her feet directed themselves along the paved paths of Central Park, and for a while, she wandered aimlessly._

_She came to a small clearing in the park, with benches set around a circle which held at it’s centre a bubbling water fountain. The water that rushed out of the spout of a bronze trout was crystal clear, to contrast with the murky water of the pool below._

_Nevertheless, Lexa found that the place was charming, and settled herself in one of the benches, noting that there was no one around. She pulled a book from her bag and leaned back, cracking it’s spine as she turned the first page and delved into a world of mystery._

_When she looked up some time later, she found that she was no longer alone in the clearing. A few benches to her left there sat a woman, probably around her own age; she had striking blonde hair, which was all that Lexa could really see because she was hunched over what looked like a notebook. As she stared, she realized that the woman was drawing, and when she caught sight of her face, she was stunned to say the least._

_She was strikingly beautiful, with a neat chin and a sharp nose and a defined brow and an overall soft and kind complexion. Her neat eyebrows were furrowed, and Lexa figured she was concentrating._

_She stared at the blonde for a while before turning back to her book, but found she was no longer interested in the words on the pages. She wanted to stand up and go talk to the blonde, find out her name and ask her out – but she was so concentrated on her drawing that Lexa dared not disturb her._

_Following that day, Lexa made sure to return to that same spot every day at the same time. The first few days, she thought it was only a coincidence that the blonde appeared there at the same time – most times, they were not alone in the clearing, and so Lexa reasoned that perhaps the blonde just enjoyed this spot and had a regular schedule._

_Two weeks after that first sighting, Lexa found herself at the park yet again. It was drizzling lightly, but she did not mind; the trees provided perfect cover from the rain, and only a few score rain droplets found their way down to splash onto her head or onto the pages of her book. She glanced around the clearing every few minutes, and as time passed she found herself disappointed that the blonde hadn’t come. She had been trying to muster the courage to talk to her for two weeks, and she had thought that today would have been the day that she finally did it._

_An hour passed, and Lexa was sure that the blonde wasn’t going to show up. It was raining more heavily now, and she had opened up her umbrella and set it against her shoulder so that she wouldn’t get wet. It was because of the umbrella that she failed to notice the approaching figure until suddenly she caught sight of two feet before her, clad in bright yellow rain boots. As she slowly ran her eyes up the figure that she already knew all too well, her heart began racing faster and faster until she saw the blonde’s face and the shy smile that was playing on her lips._

_“Hey.”_

_Lexa closed her book and pushed her umbrella further up so that she could properly see the woman before her. She was wearing a matching yellow rain coat, and the hood was pulled over her head; on anyone else, it would have looked like a child’s outfit, but on her, it just looked painstakingly adorable. “Hey.” Lexa’s voice came out small and croaked, and she cursed herself, sure she’d already embarrassed herself._

_“I’m Clarke,” the blonde smiled, pulling out a piece of paper from her pocket. “I think you’re cute. Call me?”_

_Lexa took the paper that she was offering and stared at her, wide-eyed. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll call you.”_

_The blonde – Clarke – smiled widely and nodded. “Ok. I’ll be waiting.”_

_And then she walked away, although Lexa could notice a slight skip in her step as she went. The paper in her hand was almost entirely forgotten, but once Clarke was out of sight, Lexa remembered and quickly unfolded it._

_It was a sketch. Of herself, sitting on the bench, reading. Lexa felt a slight blush creep to her cheeks, and for a moment failed to notice the phone number written beneath the sketch. But then she did, and she smiled so widely she was sure she’d hurt her jaw._

_That night when she got home, she called Clarke, and Lexa's life was never the same._

* * *

 

Lexa came to from her daze with a slow start. For a moment, she wondered what had happened to the deep red walls of her bedroom at home. But she wondered that for only a moment before recalling that she was not at home.

She could hear muffled voices speaking somewhere nearby, in hushed tones and exasperated sounds. She lifted her head just slightly from the pillow and saw two men, clad in pristine white lab coats, standing in the corner and discussing something very intently.

Lexa laid her head back and sighed. She did not need to hear what they were saying. She knew what it was, anyway.

“There’s nothing we can do, her body can’t sustain her any longer. It’s only a matter of hours. Maybe less.”

A sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes and tried to push away the annoying beeping that was coming from the machine to her right. It was all too infrequent and slow, and far too loud.

She wondered briefly where her family was. Surely they would be arriving soon. She had asked the nurse to phone them, but that had been a long time ago. She wasn’t so sure how long; there was no clock in the room, and she could no longer keep track of time by the nurses now that she could barely tell them apart. The room to her was a blur, as was the world itself. It was as though reality itself was slipping away from her.

* * *

 

_She proposed to Clarke on a bridge in Prague. She couldn’t for the life of her remember it’s name, only that it was beautiful and the only thing more beautiful was the smile that spread to her girlfriend’s lips when she knelt down before her and pulled out the ring._

_"Clarke, will you be my wife?"_

_Of course she’d said yes. The ring on her finger had been perfect, and soon after Lexa had received one similar from her fiancée._

_They had been happy._

_And then they had gotten married a year later, in a small chapel in Maine, and they had become even happier than that day in Prague. The reception had taken place in an old mansion overlooking the sea and the beautiful beach beneath it, and there had been strings of lights hung everywhere as though they were in a fairy tale. Before they had left the venue, Lexa had gone down to the beach and found the most perfectly round white stone, and that stone ended up having a special place in every single bedroom that they shared from then on. She later had their wedding date carved into it, and Clarke had called her idiotically romantic – but she was only joking, because she knew Lexa was a romantic idiot who enjoyed little trinkets and professions of love._

_The sketch with Clarke’s phone number had been framed and placed in a place of honor in their home, and when they came home with their firstborn son a year and half later, his birth certificate was placed directly beneath it. A few years later, their daughter's birth certificate had joined the first._

_And they had become even happier than they’d been on that day in Maine._

* * *

 

Lexa stared at the door for what felt like hours until it opened and in walked two figures who she did not need to see to recognize. Aden, her son, was handsome as ever, and even in her barely capable state she could see the concern that caused his brows to furrow and eyes to darken.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, and Lexa smiled gently. “Aden.”

“Hi, Mom.” His voice was choked, and Lexa couldn’t help but feel a slight pain in her heart. He was worried, he was in pain, as was her daughter, who now leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. Her brown hair, so much like her own, tickled Lexa's cheek, and she smiled.

“Isabella,” Lexa breathed, “I’m glad you came. Both of you.” Her voice was barely audible, only just above a breath, but her children heard her nevertheless.

 _Their children_.

“Mom, how are you feeling?”

Lexa leaned her head back and hummed. “I’m fine.”

She could hear Isabella choke down a sob, and wished she had the strength to raise a hand to comfort her.

“You’re not fine, Mom,” Aden said quietly. “You know you’re not.”

Lexa noticed him wipe a tear from his cheek, and nodded. “I know.”

“We…I don’t want you to go, Mom.”

And then Aden broke down and cried, crumbling over onto Lexa’s bedside and allowing the quiet sobs to shake his body. Isabella sobbed too, and for a while, nobody spoke. Lexa cried too, but not for the reason her children were crying; she cried for them, she felt their pain, because there was nothing she could do to stop the inevitable.

She was dying. She had known it for a while.

And when she’d woken that morning, she had known that today was the day.

She was perfectly fine with it.

She was ready.

* * *

 

_That day was like any other._

_Except it really wasn’t. On that day, Lexa drove home with only Clarke in the car, and with only Clarke to go inside with her. Aden was off out in the world, and their baby girl Isabella had left the nest as well._

_“She’ll be fine, right?” Clarke asked, worry evident in her voice. “We got her to her dorm, she’ll be okay, and the college is only four hours away so-“_

_“Clarke, she’s our daughter. More to the point, she’s **your** daughter. She’ll be more than fine.”_

_She parked the car and got out, expecting Clarke to come out as well. When her wife failed to do so, she circled to the other side to find Clarke paler than she’d seen her in a while._

_“Clarke, are you okay?”_

_Clarke nodded. “I’m fine. Just needa lie down.” She went to get up from her seat, but instead cried out, clutching at her chest._

_“Fuck, Lexa, something’s wrong.”_

_Lexa’s heart froze solid, and she instantly ran over to the other side and jumped into the driver’s seat, speeding off so fast she was sure she left tire marks on their driveway._

* * *

Lexa sighed and stared at the ceiling again. Aden and Isabella were just outside, speaking with the doctors, but Lexa knew it was pointless. There was nothing left to do; her body had come to it’s end, and she had no fight left in her.

Not that she would have wanted to fight. Death was only natural.

A weight pressed at her heart as she recalled the day of Clarke’s first heart attack. She had been terrified, so terrified that she could barely remember what had happened. Seeing Clarke run through the tests and the swarm of doctors around her, and the three seconds for which her heart stopped – it had all been too early, too soon, they hadn’t even turned forty and yet she was facing the possibility of becoming a widow.

Clarke had recovered, but had soon been diagnosed with a heart disease which called for constant monitoring and the risk of heart attack at any given time. Lexa smiled to herself when she thought back to what the doctor had said:

“ _I’d give her ten years, at most. Make the most of it.”_

But Clarke had not only doubled, but tripled that number.

She was suddenly startled by a doctor’s hand gently pressing at her arm.

“Miss Griffin-Woods?”

Lexa nodded. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, we’ve done all that we can to help you. I’m afraid there is nothing more that we can do for you.”

* * *

 

**_"I’m afraid there is nothing more that we can do.”_ **

_Those words shattered Lexa’s heart. She felt as though someone had tightened a band around her chest, because she couldn’t breathe; she couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, all she could feel was the pain and the desperation that welled up within her. Her hand gripped Clarke’s so tightly she was sure it’d bruise, but Clarke was only looking at her with sorrow in her eyes._

_The doctor left them, and Lexa crumbled against Clarke’s bedside, unable to contain her cries. Clarke laid a weak hand onto her head and waited, absent-mindedly running her fingers through her hair._

_“Lexa.”_

_Lexa sniffled and looked up, and saw the pain that resided in the beautiful blue of her wife’s eyes. “Clarke, I can’t…you can’t die, I won’t let you. There’s got to be something-“_

_“You heard the doctor, Lexa. It’s time.”_

_Lexa choked down a sob and leaned in to kiss her wife, and Clarke could taste the saltiness of her tears on her wife’s lips._

_“I’m sorry, Lexa.” Her voice was weak, and she felt weak too - Lexa looked as though she were ready to shatter to pieces, and Clarke felt pain for the sorrow that she knew her wife was already feeling._

_“I can’t live without you,” Lexa whispered, unable to trust her voice to carry her words without breaking. “I don’t want to. I can’t.”_

_Clarke smiled gently. “We knew this would come eventually. Be glad for the thirty years that we had, my love.”_

_“I can’t live without you.”_

_"You can and you will live, Lexa.”_

_“Clarke, you're my heart. You can’t go.”_

_“I’m not going anywhere, not really.”_

_“But you won’t be here with me.”_

_“I’ll be in your memories, Lexa. Look at the sketch everyday and think of me. And the rock. And the ring. I’m as much a part of you as you are of me, Lexa.”_

_“You can’t leave me, I-" But Lexa broke then, and sobbed, and Clarke understood._

_“I can’t stop it and you know I can’t, Lexa. Don’t make this any more painful than it has to be.”_

_Lexa could no longer speak; the tears were falling, and the sobs that she was so hard to keep down were breaking her from within. It felt as though she were the one dying, but she knew that was only false pain; her pain and burden would be the life that came after Clarke, and she was not ready for that._

_She could never be ready for that._

_“I’m tired, Lexa. You know I am.”_

_Lexa nodded and kissed Clarke again, on her lips and on her forehead and on each of her cheeks and her eye lids. She then kissed her hand, gently as she could, and tried to tell her everything that she felt through those kisses. And Clarke understood, and smiled through her tears._

_“I love you, Lexa.”_

_“I love you, Clarke, more than anything,” Lexa murmured, but her voice broke and she cried out again. “I can’t lose you, Clarke, I can’t-“_

_“Lexa.”_

_Lexa looked up, and saw now that Clarke was smiling._

_“May we meet again, Lexa.”_

_The slow beeping that had thus far been background noise became a steady beep, and Lexa stared at Clarke’s sleeping form for what felt like ages. When a nurse burst in and found her, she was still sitting there, her hand gripping Clarke’s hand tightly, tears falling silently as she stared at her wife._

_“Ma’am, I’m sorry. She’s gone.”_

_And that was when it all broke down. Lexa cried out and fell against Clarke’s body, sobs and cries and tears falling from her as though the dam had broken; which, truthfully it had. Her heart was in a thousand pieces, shattered and scattered in the world, and the pain in her chest was so great she couldn’t breathe. She wanted to die then, wanted to go wherever Clarke had gone; but she couldn’t, not when she had promised Clarke she wouldn’t._

_But Clarke was gone, and she felt too alone to even breathe. Her heart was gone; her wife was dead – she’d never get to speak to her again, or see the bright smile on those beautiful pink lips, or the shining joy that resided within the blue of her eyes – she’d never get to say good morning to her, or kiss her goodbye._

_She would never hear ‘I love you’ from her lips ever again._

_She would never kiss those lips ever again and feel the warmth in her chest explode._

_Clarke was gone. Clarke was dead._

_And on that day, a part of Lexa died as well._

* * *

 

Ten years she had lived without her heart truly with her. Ten years she had endured the pain, the sorrow, the heartache – for years, she had concealed it from her – no, their – children, hidden it within herself and only let it out when the door closed and she heard their cars leaving the driveway and knew she was alone.

She had adopted a dog when their old one had died. She had let Aden’s son name him, and so it came to be that her only true companion for those ten years was a dog named Fish. She hadn’t been able to withstand the silence alone.

Every nook and cranny of the house was reminiscent of Clarke. She would walk downstairs and think she’d seen a flash of blond hair rushing past her to the door, or she’d wake at night and swear she could smell Clarke’s favorite brand of coffee brewing – the pictures and paintings and sketches were all still up. Clarke’s studio was as she’d left it; Lexa cleaned it daily, not daring to move anything from it’s place other than to get rid of the dust.

She had friends, of course, but they only visited so often and none could truly ward off the ache in her heart. The day Clarke had died had been the day she had ceased feeling like she belonged in this world.

Lexa now sighed and counted the ceiling tiles again, but this time, there were tears in her eyes, and she counted only 78. She was about to start counting again when she caught sight of a blurry figure with blonde hair, and for a second, she thought it was Clarke.

But it wasn’t; it was a nurse, there to administer her more medications. Lexa knew she was supposed to be in infernal pain; there was a weight on her chest that was more than just figurative, she knew that much – she knew the pain, had lived with it, but it had grown and it was now what was killing her.

“No more drugs.” She muttered. “Please.”

The nurse looked at her and smiled gently. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am sure.”

She nodded and walked away, and yet again Lexa was struck by how much she looked like Clarke.

But she wasn’t Clarke. She couldn’t be Clarke.

Clarke was dead.

* * *

 

_It was the last day of summer, and the streets of New York were being hammered with the worst rain storm of the season. There was barely anyone outside, and certainly not in the park; nobody but Lexa and Clarke, running in the rain wearing their rain coats and laughing and jumping in puddles. Clarke was wearing her yellow boots and coat, and she looked so cute Lexa couldn’t help but feel her heart swell up with each smile that she gave her._

_They came to the clearing where they’d first met, and Lexa then decided now was the time. This time she’d be the first to say it._

_She stopped Clarke by grabbing her hand, and twirled her around before pulling her in for a deep, passionate kiss. Clarke leaned in to her, and Lexa smiled as she wrapped her arms around Clarke’s waist. She was all too happy for any of it to be true._

_When they pulled apart, Lexa took a deep breath before speaking._

_“I love yo-“_

_“I love y-“_

_Both of them burst out laughing, for they’d spoken over one another, and for a while, they just stood there, laughing in the rain while in each other’s arms. Clarke grabbed Lexa’s face and kissed her, laughter still bubbling in her throat, and Lexa picked her up and twirled her around._

_“I love you, Clarke.” She murmured into her ear, “And I said that first.”_

_“No you didn’t, we said it at the same time.”_

_“I said it first.”_

_“Whatever, idiot.”_

_And they kissed again, and all was well in their perfect little world._

* * *

 

Lexa was done counting the ceiling tiles.

She was done with the world.

She was content with her life. She was ready for the next step.

Aden sat on her right side, his hands holding her own tightly as he fought the tears. Isabella sat to her left, holding her hand, but she was unable to keep the tears at bay; she sobbed quietly, trying her best to not disturb the heavy silence that resided in the room.

Lexa could now feel the pain, but it was welcome to her; she was ready.

“Aden, Isabella.”

“Yes, Mom?”

“I love you both. And I will always love you two. And your kids. Tell the kids I love them.”

“Yes, of course. We love you too, Mom.”

“Please don’t go.”

Lexa smiled contently, feeling the pain engulf her. She could feel her breaths growing shorter and more constricted; she knew that in a moment she would pass into sleep, and then her heart would stop.

And she was ready.

“I won’t go far. I’ll be there for you just like Ma is.”

“Please, Mom.”

“Live good lives, be happy. Don’t worry about me. My fight here is over,” Lexa whispered. And then she let out one last breath and let the darkness at the back of her mind consume her.

She did not hear the continuous beep turn into one long tone, nor did she hear the cries of her children; no, Lexa heard or felt nothing, because in that moment, she died.

* * *

Wherever Lexa was, it was bright. She could feel soft grass beneath her feet, which she was surprised to find were bare. She hadn’t stood on her own two feet for so long, and as she took a step forward, she felt the strength of her youth was back in her again; with a glance down her body, she saw that it was young and nimble again, and when the gentle warm wind blew a lock of hair to her face, she wasn’t surprised to find that it was dark brown instead of wispy white. She was wearing a white gown of sorts, though what it was, she did not care.

She felt like she was meant to stand there and wait. For what, she did not know. The wind was soft and warm, and the landscape her was shrouded in wispy white clouds and ethereal, hazy light that seemed to emanate from the earth itself. For as far as she could see, she saw nothing but rolling low hills and small crystal-clear lakes.

Her arms hung at her side, and she jumped slightly when she felt a hand slip into hers. It was warm and familiar, and when a gentle kiss was pressed to her cheek, Lexa caught the scent of oil paints and fresh coffee. A chin was laid to her shoulder, and in that moment, Lexa was sure she knew who it was.

When Clarke's voice spoke, soft and gentle in her ear, Lexa felt whole again.

**“Told you we’d meet again.”**

**Author's Note:**

> i am so sorry for the pain  
> i cried like 5 times while writing this  
> like if u cried


End file.
